


Afraid of any deviation

by Merel



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Arguing, Brothels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, POV Outsider, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merel/pseuds/Merel
Summary: Melissa’s head peeks through the door opening and stays there for a few seconds, eyes flitting around the scene. Liliane mouths a plea to her, but she throws up a peace sign and leaves, the fucking bitch.
Relationships: Chris "Madam Christmas" Mustang & Roy Mustang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29
Collections: Equivalent Exchange 2020





	Afraid of any deviation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cureelliott](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cureelliott/gifts).



“I think that’s just being homophobic.” 

The madam is massaging her temples, which was never a good sign if it was aimed at you, but thank fuck for Liliane, it wasn’t. Instead her nephew has managed to get himself into an impressive soapbox stance, chest puffed out, arms crossed, chin high, the model of a contrary teen. 

“There’s nothing homophobic about me not wanting you to fucking invite the son of a fucking capo here, Roy.” 

“Oh, I see, because he’s Aerugonian that means he’s connected to the mafia? So now you’re homophobic _and_ racist, huh?”

Her clients sometimes take her to tennis matches, as pretty arm-candy, but this is a lot more entertaining than two guys grunting and hitting a ball around. Unstoppable force versus immovable object, where the force is a fifteen-year-old boy who she had to listen to and make affirming noises while he monologued for hours about circles, and the object is someone who, rumour had it, walked into the Jade Lotus alone and unarmed, and walked out with a written apology, three of the perpetrator’s fingers, and a life-time promise of free jiaozi. 

Liliane didn’t know about the apology or the fingers, but the dumplings tasted amazing, and fuck, she's getting hungry, but she's on the couch, the door's on the other side of the room, and she does _not_ want to walk through what is building up right now. 

“It’s not a fucking prejudice, kid, _I’m_ Aeru-”

“Oh, just because _you’re_ connected to the mafia means every other-”

“Stop fucking changing the subject, you’re-”

“That’s because the subject is dumb as _shit,_ you’re being completely ridiculous about this, it’s safer for me to suck a guy’s dick in my own room than at his house, or in a fucking alleyway, I don’t know why the fuck you’re upset about-” 

“You took him to your fucking room?” 

“No, I took him to my _bed_ room, the _fucking_ rooms are downst-” 

Melissa’s head peeks through the door opening and stays there for a few seconds, eyes flitting around the scene. Liliane mouths a plea to her, but she throws up a peace sign and leaves, the fucking bitch. Just when she thinks she’s going to be fucking stuck here for an hour, the madam lands a final blow. 

“This is _not_ an argument. You live under _my_ roof, you live under _my_ rules, this is for your own safety.” 

“You’re such a-” 

“I’m done with this, Roy.” 

The teen lets out an inarticulate scream of teenage anger and marches out, but whirls around in dramatic teenage fashion and points a petulant teenage finger towards his aunt. “This isn’t over.” 

“It _is,_ kid.” 

Roy huffs and puffs and turns back around to stomp to his room, and she would double over in laughter if the madam still wasn’t a presence in the room. She mumbles something under her breath about that being too easy and her fingers flex. Liliane pushes herself back into the couch cushions, but it’s no use. Dark steely eyes find her. “Don’t you have anything else to do?” 

“Yes.” She manages to squeak, and totally casually walks out of the common room. 

* * *

It’s several hours later when she leaves her book behind and emerges from her room to go out to refill the hot water bottle. There’s scratching at the inside of Roy’s door, one of the cats Siobhan smuggled in and the madam tolerates. The issue is that the cat is still scratching the door when she comes back, after she’s boiled water, refilled the bottle, and made raspberry leaf tea. Roy’s a heavy sleeper, but she knows from unfortunate experience that neither of the cats have anything against jumping on someone’s chest or chewing on their fucking hair. She tentatively knocks on the teen’s door and the scratching stops, but a second later a pitiful _meow_ comes from the room. 

“Roy? You in there?” 

Roy doesn’t answer. Well, she’ll just open the door a smidge, just enough for a cat to worm through. The tabby one walks out, Liliane doesn’t know her name, but that’s not her problem. No, oh no, it’s that from Roy’s shoes, usually lined up neatly next to the door, there’s a pair missing. 

“Hey, Roy?” 

Still no answer, and she opens the door wider, the light of the hallway falling on the paper-strewn carpet and the filled bookcases. The curtains in front of his windows aren’t closed. She opens the door fully. The bed isn’t neatly made, but bigger fucking problem is that he’s not in his bed. He’s not in his room. His shoes are missing, his coat isn’t hanging from the peg on the wall, and _he’s not in his room._

Aha. Fuck. Fuck her, fuck him, fuck everything, because fuck her fucking life, that’s fucking why. It could have been hours since he left, he could be in the canals, or shot, or stabbed, or stabbed, then shot, and his body was dumped in the canals. The gods have cursed her existence, it’s something she’s always suspected, but this practically confirms it. 

She descends the stairs like she’s going to be attending her own wake, which is not an exaggeration, she’s as good as dead at this point. First question the madam asks will be _how could you not notice anything?,_ and she’s going to have to explain that she was so absorbed in her five-hundred cenz lesbian werewolf romance paperback novel that she didn’t hear her nephew leaving. 

Siobhan walks into the hallway just when she knocks on the door of the office.

“Lils, the fuck are you doing downstairs?” 

“I gotta talk to-” 

“Come in.” 

She opens the door and goes in, and is greeted for the second time with a sight she doesn’t want. The madam doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood, not that it would matter, she’s not gonna be in a good mood either fucking way-

“Well?” 

“Uhm.” The madam stares at her. “Roy isn’t in his room, I can’t find-”

“I know.” Now it’s Liliane’s turn to stare. “Caught the fucking idiot trying to sneak out.” 

There’s a muffled _fuck you_ coming from behind her. She looks back, and there the asshole teen is, on the madam’s couch, under a blanket. “Snitch.” 

“It’s not snitching if she doesn’t owe you shit, Roy.” That doesn’t stop him from sending Liliane a very ferocious glare. “Liliane.” 

She turns around, back towards the madam. “Yes?” 

“Thanks for looking out for him.” 

She almost denies, she doesn’t care for the kid, obviously, but that would be a really bad look. “No problem.” 

The madam stares at her, like she could hear what she didn’t say. “Go back to bed, girl, you’ve got laundry duty tomorrow.” 

Roy snorts a laugh behind her, fucker, but she ignores him. “Ah, yeah, goodnight madam.”

“Goodnight.” 

She exits the office. Siobhan is still in the hallway and raises her eyebrows in a question, but Liliane waves her off and goes back to the common floors. Tea, warm water bottle, book, and then sleep.


End file.
